it wasn't me that tried to drown the world
by callmesandy
Summary: Peter's forgotten 3 weeks of his life when he was 24, but he doesn't find out what really happened until he's been with Fringe for a year.


Not mine, no profit garnered. Title and opening quote from Mark Wagenaar's Me & The Devil's Blues. For the trope bingo spots chosen family and reunion. Thanks to the JAM! and A.

* * *

 _There's a price to hear a song_  
 _that will drown the sorrows of the world:_

 _you might tell him you've nothing to trade, he'll tell_  
 _you different (he's just after a little company)._  
 _Near those crossroads we can still hear the devil_  
 _sing: it wasn't me that tried to drown the world._

Peter woke up in some shithole hotel in Manhattan, and a quick check of the day's date showed him he'd forgotten three weeks. He'd just lost the time. He asked around discreetly, but no one remembered seeing him. Peter decided he was better off not knowing. He was always better off not pushing at things too hard. He could call it the coward's way out but Peter preferred to call it survival. He'd made it 24 years so far.

!

Walter marched off petulantly, bored, and they found him asleep in the back of Charlie's SUV. Charlie said, "Come on, wake him up."

"Bad idea," Peter said. "You know what they say about sleeping dogs. Walter is a very cranky, delusional and possibly manic dog. He needs his sleep." Peter might have smirked.

Olivia said, "We can wake him up, we'll take him."

Charlie glared at Walter sleeping and to Peter's infinite happiness, said, "Fine, I'll take him home. Am I allowed to wake him when I get to the hotel?"

"Yes, absolutely," Peter said, almost sprinting to Olivia's SUV.

"That was mean," Olivia said. They had a three hour drive back to Boston.

"He spent the whole time at the crime scene complaining," Peter said. "I'm exhausted, and I'm exhausted by him, specifically."

"You love him, though," Olivia said.

Peter looked at her and shook his head. Olivia said, "I know you claim to be a cynic."

Peter looked at Olivia again, her hair down, and all he wanted to do was run his hands through it. He blinked back his own exhaustion. He said, "I used to be. Now I can't even pretend well."

"Because of this," Olivia said.

"That makes you happy?" He wondered at her tone, the side of her mouth, her eyes.

"Yes," Olivia said. She smiled at him, her face open. He couldn't help smiling back. It was a kind of conversation, he wasn't sure what they were saying. It seemed like a good one.

They listened to talk radio, weird meditations and call in shows. Olivia or Peter changed the station when it turned political. When they were close enough to Boston, Olivia switched to NPR. It was 4 am, so there was already news.

Olivia pulled up to her apartment. "Come in," she said.

She'd said that before, but this seemed to have something hopeful in it. 10 months of knowing her, he'd been to her place maybe hundreds of times. But he followed her to her door, and it was different this morning.

Inside the door, Olivia turned and pushed him against the door. She ran her hands up his chest, then she kissed him and started unbuttoning his shirt. He held her waist and pulled her against him. She was so warm.

He finally got to run his hands through her hair. She shivered and pushed his shirt off. He undid his belt, shoved his jeans down, stepped out of his sneakers. Olivia stepped back, grinning. "You're already naked." She walked to her couch and sat down.

"It's summer," Peter said. "If I weren't so frightened by what Walter unleashes in the lab and what we get sent out to investigate, I'd be in sandals and shorts every day." He felt slightly ridiculous crouching naked in front of her but he did it anyway. She was wearing her usual boots which he untied and slipped off her. Then he delicately removed her plain black socks. He even rubbed her feet a little, earning him a contented quiet moan. He looked up as she undid her bra and shrugged out of it. Her shirt was already off. She unbuttoned her slacks and he pulled them off. Then he stood up, bent over her as she pushed her underwear off.

She reached up, her arms looped around his neck. They were kissing again, she sat up so her breasts were against his chest. She spread her legs and then hooked them behind his waist. "Take me to bed," she murmured.

He easily carried her. She was doing half the work, her thighs pushing in around his waist. She kept kissing him, dragging her hands through his hair, along his jaw. He remembered how to walk with a hard on.

He somehow reached the bed, even with his hands on her soft thighs and her mouth on his. Naturally, he thought, since this was Olivia, he ended up on his back, while she straddled him. Olivia moved her hips forward and back, her wet cunt sliding over his dick and back again. He closed his eyes and tried not to shoot off like he was 14 watching Skinemax after dark. He said, "Do we need a condom? If we do, I will -" Peter tried to remember if he even had condoms. It had been a while, he'd been pretty close to celibate. He refused to think it had anything to do with Olivia, though it probably had everything to do with her.

She fucking shimmied over his dick. He said, "I will get up and put on pants and drive to get condoms."

"No need," Olivia said. She sounded a little breathless. "Walter keeps doing those full and thorough blood panels on us."

"Okay, but I don't want to get you pregnant," Peter said. Not yet, he thought. He wanted to bolt from the bed. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"I have an IUD," she said.

"Thank God," he said. He reached for his dick at the same time she lifted her hips. Finally she lowered herself on his dick and he could grab onto her, thrust up inside of her tight cunt.

She was in charge every moment and he was somehow even more aroused, even though he couldn't think and he was pretty sure his eyes were rolling back in his head from the sensations of her on his dick. He said "Liv" over and over again while he came. He added his hand to her so she got off, too. She'd probably shoot him if he didn't. He wasn't the most coherent with Olivia Dunham stretched out naked next to him, both in a state of satiated happiness.

"Give me a little time," Peter said. "And I'll go down on you and you will love it. Promise." He sounded drunk.

"It's 6 am, Peter, I think we both need sleep. In the morning," she said. She snuggled. The Olivia Dunham, FBI agent extraordinaire, curled around him and smiled as she closed her eyes.

He woke up and Olivia wasn't in bed. He felt a momentary rush of fear and revulsion and then fear again. He said, "Liv?'

She walked into the bedroom, wearing sweats and carrying two coffee cups from Dunkin Donuts. Peter smiled, whatever he'd dreamed forgotten. He said, "My favorite FBI agent."

Olivia blushed, of all things to do, and sat down on the bed. She stripped off her sweats and she was in her underwear and bra. "Why do we drink hot coffee on days like this?"

"Do you want the scientific explanation?"

"Not at all," Olivia said. "I was just filling time."

"Do you feel awkward?" Peter reached for the blanket and covered up his lap.

Olivia reached over and pulled the blanket back down. She didn't say anything. It was Olivia, after all. She was smiling at him, she wanted him naked in her view. He'd take it. He had no intention of admitting the distinctly alien feelings of want and commitment and need he suddenly had for her or how they weren't sudden at all.

His phone rang. Peter sighed and answered. "Walter, I'm sorry, I know I should have called -"

"Peter, it's your father. Walter Bishop. And you didn't call, I have no idea where you are. I still have no idea and you have to come back. I need your help, we need to go to the lab, I know you might think the case is done but that doesn't mean our work is done," Walter said.

"I'm come back," Peter said, with another sigh. Olivia stood up and took off her bra. "You're sure you can't wait?"

"Of course I can't wait," Walter said. "Where are you, how long will it be?"

"I'm at Olivia's, Walter, so it shouldn't be -"

"Olivia?" Walter's voice went up an octave. "You're with Olivia. Olivia. Stay right there. I will find another way. Don't worry about me at all. Not at all. Stay the night there, boy. That's a good plan, the best plan."

"Really?" Peter looked over at Olivia who was slowly pushing down her underwear. Like the world's greatest stripper and Peter had seen some excellent needed to run and get away, this wasn't where he should be. He said, "Okay, Walter, I'm taking you at your word. Bye, Walter Bishop, my father."

"He is over the moon at the thought of us," Peter said.

Olivia sat on his thighs, her legs spread. "Okay."

He reached between her legs and kissed her. "I think I promised you something."

"Oh, I remember," Olivia said.

It was a leisurely late morning and even more relaxed afternoon. When the sun set, Olivia said, "What are we going to do about this?"

Peter was torn between saying never again and keep doing it again. He smiled at her weakly. She said, "I know. I'm not sure either."

"We should keep doing this," Peter said. He held her cheek, watched her breathe. "We should definitely keep doing this. The only negative is how much Walter wants us to."

"It makes me suspicious, too," Olivia said.

"I'm just being a bad son, you're suspicious?"

"He knows more than he's saying. He experimented on me, who knows what he did to you. You don't even remember. Maybe he has some plans if we have a child," Olivia said.

"I'd never let Walter near our love child," Peter said. Saying 'love child' made it funny, like he didn't really mean it.

"I wouldn't let him do an ultrasound on me," Olivia said. She was looking away from him and he could have sworn she was trying not to smile.

"Or eat any food he gives either of us in the near future. If anyone could find a way to counteract an IUD with a glass of lemonade, it would be Walter," Peter said.

"But, seriously," Olivia said. "We should do this again, you think."

Peter took a breath, moved closer to Olivia. He said, "I do think. I mean, not just the sex. The hanging out."

"Dating," she said, air quotes implied.

"I know I'm not your type," Peter said.

"You don't know my type at all," Olivia said.

"Unlike John, I am not a good guy. You know, criminal."

Olivia said, "Like John, you are good at lying. But no, you're not like John. I don't think I have a type so you're not not my type."

The next morning he decided to be the one walking to Dunkin Donuts. He'd have to leave again to get clean clothes, all he had now were jeans and a button down. Maybe he'd buy some somewhere near Olivia's apartment, move in permanently, and never live with Walter again. It was the perfect combination of running away and Olivia.

He walked about 20 feet before Olivia caught up with him. She said, "You don't want to hear this."

"Not Broyles," he said. "I have to go home then and put on something other than the clothes I've been wearing for three days."

"It hasn't been the full three days," she said, walking ahead of him. "We have an hour or two to get ready."

A man, taller than Olivia, an inch shorter than Peter, brushed past Olivia and grabbed Peter's shoulder, spinning Peter around. Peter tried to slip free or elbow him somewhere but the man's grip was too strong, inhumanly strong. Peter said, "Stop," loudly and then groaned in pain as the felt a needle going deep in the back of his neck, in his spine.

He wasn't hallucinating, Peter realized. Nina brought him to the house, his mother answered the door.

"Mom," Peter said. His mother had killed herself 2 years ago. But here she was alive, in front of him. "Mom." He kept saying, awash in lost and found, his only real connection to the world in this different world.

She was clinging to him, in tears. Nina said, "Look, he's back. Make sure to take him to your husband. Don't let them kill us all." Nina drove off and Peter was alone with his mother. He didn't want to let go.

His mother was the first one to tell him everything. She told him about the kidnapping, his illness. She told him about the world falling apart after he was gone. It was, mostly, a horrifying story that seemed like it explained his entire life.

Even if Peter were hallucinating or having a delusional psychotic break which would make sense, given his age, he was willing to accept everything around him. Here was his mother. Then she did take him to meet his father, which was even more jarring than anything that had come before that.

This man, his father, this Walter Bishop, was an unimaginable side of Walter Bishop. His father. He didn't even cry like Walter. Peter's mother said, "We are all back together now."

Peter's father explained all the damage to the world. All of it Walter's fault, because of his hubris, his dad told him. Peter thought it sounded more like grief and madness, but he didn't want to defend his kidnapper. He hated Walter anyway.

"Maybe," his father said, "Maybe we can work on fixing them."

Peter nodded. He had nothing to hold him back in the other side, no one loved him besides Walter. He didn't love anyone except for his mother and she was dead. He'd been rattling around, lying and conning people for no reason other than that he could. He could see the roots of his many faults in all this exciting family history, but this was a good thing. He was home. He could help.

Peter blinked and blinked. He was on the ground and he saw Olivia's shoes coming towards him. Olivia was coming towards him. She squatted down and touched his neck. She said, "I shot him, Peter. I know I hit him. But he shrugged it off. He wasn't falling apart like Jones, he looked irritated."

"I just," Peter closed his eyes. He opened them. "I remembered something. I think?"

"I'm taking you to the lab," Olivia said, pulling him up. He could stand on his own.

"Walter," Peter said, a snarl under his tone. "Something's going on."

Olivia looked at him, already on the phone. Olivia would call Broyles first and then Walter.

Walter had kidnapped him.

x

Peter was 24 when he woke up sprawled across a desk, somewhere in Manhatan. Later he would know it was spelled Manhatan, not Manhattan. He opened his eyes, stared out the window and saw the World Trade Center. He saw the Grand Hotel. He assumed he was hallucinating, he assumed someone had slipped him something. It had only been a year.

He wasn't hallucinating, though someone had drugged him. He heard a woman's voice, telling him to get up. It was Nina Sharp, not the one he knew, not that he knew Nina Sharp. She was pictures in a prospectus, a rising company called Massive Dynamic. The stock was already too expensive for Peter but he'd considered a few possible cons to get him there.

But this was the Nina from this universe. She dragged him out of the room. "Your father and William Bell will kill us all. I'm stopping it."

"Walter's at St. Claire's," Peter said, still following her. The drugs seemed to make him less willing to make a fuss. If only someone had drugged him like this years ago, he might have graduated high school.

"I meant your real father," Nina said.

x

Peter stared out the window. Olivia said, "Peter? Are you okay?"

"No," he said. "I keep remembering things. He injected me in the spine, it felt like that, I wonder if it's possibly to literally inject memories in someone's brain."

"Peter," she said. She reached out and touched his hair, pulled her hand back. Charlie called and he heard Olivia trying to explain things to him.

It was very hard to focus and his head hurt. Like having his brains invaded by a dead guy hurt. Another one to thank Walter for.

x

They finished Boston in another two months. Peter had been home for more than a year. He hadn't really made friends. There was a cute guy working as one of the junior scientists, Lincoln Lee which sounded like a fake name. His mother said when Peter was younger, he and Lincoln had played together more than once. Peter didn't remember. He didn't remember anything very clearly before he was 10. But Lincoln was cool, they could talk and joke around.

He started training Lincoln in how to use the tear fixer. "It needs a better name," Lincoln said.

"Super mega tear repair," Peter said.

"The closer," Lincoln said.

"The super mega closer," Peter said.

Lincoln laughed. His Dad had not liked that joke.

It was denial, Peter's jokes. The longer he worked on every tear and wormhole he could find, the more he saw it. He would have preferred to languish in denial, but his father was having none of that. He came to Peter's room and stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Son," he said. "I know you've realized the problem. And the solution."

Peter sighed. He looked at himself in the mirror, saw the ease in his body and eyes he never had when he'd been on the other side. "Yes," Peter said. "I know we need to show someone how to do this from the other side. But it doesn't have to be me."

"We know you can survive the trip, many other people can't. We can hardly test by sending people to their death," his father said. "Please don't think I want this."

"Why not send a robot? Weren't you and Bell developing a robot or something that could go over there?" Peter knew the answer, but he hated it.

"Bell has scurried home, as soon as you came back. It will take me time to finish that project," his dad said.

"I'll help, we'll make it go faster. I have nothing to go home to. If I fix it from this side, how do I get back home?"

"Maybe we can find a way," his father said.

x

Peter woke up again and asked loudly for paper or something to write on. Astrid appeared at his side with a notebook and a pen. He reached across because she was on his right side. Peter started writing down the equations schematics test results spewing into his head. He looked up again.

He was in the lab, sitting in the examination chair. There was an IV in his arm. "What are you drugging me with, Walter?" Peter's voice sounded harsh to his ears.

"It's a simple tranquilizer, your brain activity is heightened, Peter," Walter stuttered out. "You seem agitated."

"Well, I remember being told all about how you took me," Peter said. He glared at the old man.

Charlie said, "Took you from where?"

"From the other side," Peter said.

Olivia was standing next to Charlie, she looked ashen but resolved. Olivia said, "The other side? Where I went?"

"No, a different other side. The one Walter wanted us to stop Jones from going to," Peter said. "It was a different side, they never did cortexiphan experiments on the side I was taken from. That's strange."

"Yes," Walter said. "It makes no sense. The two universes are linked, Belly and I observed it, first, first with LSD and then we built a window."

"Then you built a door and came running over," Peter said. His head still hurt.

Olivia was visibly concerned, her hands pressed together in front of her face. "Peter," she said.

Peter said, "They somehow injected me with memories, they just keep coming. I think the tranquilizer will help, Walter." He closed his eyes. He felt Olivia's hand on his shoulder. She was trembling.

x

Two months home, Peter and his father found a way to halt and reverse the blight. They turned a field of yellow and brown into something where green grass could seen pushing through and some of the trees had a lone leaf starting to grow. Even two or three leaves.

"I'm the Lindbergh baby," Peter muttered right before he followed his mother onto the brightly lit set where his father was announcing the blight cure and that Peter was back and Peter had helped with this amazing discovery.

It wasn't so bad, being the Lindbergh baby all grown up. Peter was swimming in dick and pussy. His mother commented on it, after 3 weeks of men, women, and one person who was genderqueer. Peter was still wrapping his head around the way the world worked when the apocalypse was looming, because it was fascinating the levels of real true expression people had. His mother said, "You deserve something real, Peter. Not just one night."

"I'm 24," Peter said. "I've got time. We're making sure I have time."

x

After four hours, Peter had filled four notebooks and explained ten different times what Walter had done and the effect on the other side. He showered in the lab, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stepped out.

Olivia was waiting for him in the anteroom. She said, "This's been quite the weekend, huh?"

"One to remember," he said, trying to smirk. He felt like three people at once. Maybe only one. He shook his head. "Is there any chance you have clean clothes with you?"

"Not for you," she said. But she stood up and handed him jeans, underwear, a t-shirt.

"I'm supposed to fix the rips from this side. That man you saw wasn't a man, he's a cyborg. I helped my father start the design."

"Your father meaning the other Walter," Olivia said.

"My actual biological father as opposed to the lunatic who raised me."

"You hate him," Olivia said. "Walter."

"I'm trying," Peter said. "It only lasts about five minutes and then I forget. I did have some very advanced therapy over there."

Olivia frowned. "What do you think has been happening with the Pattern, ZFT? Jones?"

"I think Bell was 100% involved. He might have started out as the helpful pal Walter remembers, but he was over on the other side until I got there. Then he disappeared. I think he was playing both sides against each other until he was found out. He may have been over there some of the time, he was probably over here a lot of the time. I wouldn't be surprised if he was behind the ZFT and inflaming the pattern events."

"Do you think Jones knew where Bell was?"

"Even if he didn't, Bell would've wanted that new door. Create more of a tear, maybe restart the war, get my father mad at this side again?" Peter had gotten dressed, and dried his hair. He still felt restless, though, like he'd forgotten something. The thought made him laugh.

He smiled at Olivia. "Aren't you thrilled at having some answers?"

"Not enough," Olivia said. She sat down next to him. She was back in her power suit. He patted her thigh and then ran his hand up down her thigh. She made a face at him like he should be serious. He kept going until she squeezed her legs together and then pried his hand away.

"Some other time," she said.

"Soon?"

She smiled at him, genuine and open. He'd waited a long time for that. Probably as long as she'd waited for him. She said, "Maybe tonight."

x

The biggest issue was the soft spots and tears. Peter spent his time meeting people, having sex with them, eating, sleeping, haunting every site that had been ambered trying to figure out what to do.

He was at this guy he'd just met's apartment, naked, in the usual ass in the air position while the guy he'd just met fucked him hard. Peter saw it, clear as day, what needed to be done.

He left that part of the story out when he explained it to his father. He really wasn't interested in talking sex with anyone who looked like Walter Bishop. They spent 2 months refining it, perfecting the technique. Creating vacuums and barrages of magnetic waves, all calibrated to the spot or the tear. Peter loved every minute of building the equipment, having everything he wanted at his disposal, seeing it take shape. When it was close to done, they started the testing. Peter never liked Big Brother and heavy surveillance, but it was helpful to keep everyone away from the first testing sites.

"We're closing the tears but since they've been ambered, the amber starts to collapse," Peter said. "We'll have to do the amber and the repair around the same time."

Peter's father nodded. "It will be difficult, though, when we move to areas where people are in the amber." Then Peter learned the people weren't dead.

"Okay," Peter said. "So we need to figure out how to dissipate the amber without killing the people stuck in there. That's task 1, then task 2, we figure out how to do everything without leaving the tear open or kill anyone."

It was another month before they could start again. Peter's dad had set up a whole team of doctors and psychiatrists to help the people they pulled out of the amber. "Though I suspect they will all be mad or catatonic," his dad said.

Peter looked up from his equipment. His dad said, "They've been preserved alive for over a decade, stuck with nothing to do but think. How sane would you be?"

"I guess we'll find out," Peter said. "How they are, not how I would react to being ambered. That's a worst case scenario."

"That will never happen," his father said, his hand tight on Peter's shoulder.

x

Peter went home with Olivia. It was hard dealing with Walter, it was hard balancing the memories still coming at him, and it was hard finding himself again wanting to go home. It wasn't the same home from moment to moment.

He liked Olivia's bed a lot. She looked at him, worried. He said, "Again, overall, Olivia, I know despite how it appears now, this is a good idea. We know a lot more. We know enough that we know we need to find Bell, and he's not on the other side. We know what's going on, some of it, what Walter did."

"I wonder what you'll remember next," Olivia said, resting her hand on his shoulder again. He missed the snuggling. She said, "Will you remember how to get home?"

"I already know how to do that," Peter said. "You could do it for me."

"I don't know how to do that," she said.

"You didn't know how to stop the bomb, but you did that. And you got over to some other parallel universe," he said. "It doesn't matter, I can finish this without going home."

"You still call it home," Olivia said.

x

They started in Harvard Yard. Somehow Walter's old lab wasn't ambered or the sight of a tear. Before they set everything up, Peter wandered around the old dusty place, surprised by how much he started to remember. From the other side. He ran his fingers over the tank. In Walter's lab, it had a sign on it.

Peter went up in the zeppelin and started the slow process of closing the tear. He used the readings to adjust the waves and pulses over the course of eight hours. Then he said, "Okay, let's de-amber." That set of technicians started at the outside edges moving towards the tear while Peter went back to work.

It was another twelve hours before they had the main tear closed and the amber removed. Their first 12 citizens were in a special hospital that been set up a few feet away from where the amber had ended before Peter and company arrived.

Peter yawned and craved sleep, but he went by the hospital first. His father looked dour. Peter said, "So everyone was crazy?"

"We tried to talk to them, it was nearly impossible. We offered them the option of wiping their memory back to the moment they were ambered and all 12 took it. It's happening now."

This side, Peter's home, had very sophisticated treatments for craziness. Peter had done most of them to deal with his kidnapping trauma and its effects. Lights, drugs, gentle shocks, it was all surprisingly effective. He said, "So no one wrote the greatest novel ever in their head or solved unsolvable math problems?"

"No," his dad said. "We won't be offering the option in the future, we'll simply wipe all of them, spare them the pain."

"Just because these 12 wanted it doesn't mean everyone would," Peter said. "12 isn't statistically significant and these 12 were ambered over 10 years ago."

"Yes, of course, people who were just ambered in the last two years, we won't act immediately, but this is for the best. Please don't argue with me," his dad said.

Peter blinked, thought about the guilt his father expressed about using the amber, thought that he hadn't seen those 12 people. He noted in his head he wasn't really arguing with his father. He said, "Okay. I'm going to bed, next set tomorrow."

x

Peter looked up at the ceiling. He wanted the memories to end. To be done. Although if they had all flooded his head at once, he would probably have gone insane. He'd be just like Walter. He got up and walked to Olivia's kitchen. She had a lot of alcohol and four take out containers. He only remembered two of them.

Peter itched the back of his neck, like he could still feel the prick. He couldn't. He smelled two of the containers and threw them out.

Olivia came up behind him. "Maybe those were still good."

"They smelled like Gene's stall," Peter said.

Olivia shrugged and smiled. "Come back to bed."

"Maybe I'm hungry," Peter said.

Olivia grabbed the band of his underwear. She snapped it against his hip. "Maybe you can't sleep."

He took a breath and looked at her in the half light. She was beautiful and, he thought, nervous. He leaned down and kissed her, her lips dry. She said, "Back to bed, Bishop."

x

They were working on the air quality, climate change. One of the scientists his father worked with made a joke about a volcano curing everything. Peter said, "You know. Maybe."

His father smiled.

Because of the Blight, swathes of the midwest were deserted with almost no population to relocate. They decided to build their own volcano somewhere around where Wyoming once was. "We'll be laying waste to people's land," the scientist said.

"We weren't the ones to ruin the land," Peter's father said. "Everyone will be compensated and relocated."

Peter cleaned his nails and waited for the discussion to be over. He was excited about making a volcano. A super volcano.

He and his father watched the eruption from 1000 miles away. Peter almost wanted to bring popcorn. The ash in the air gained them a year or two. But they only needed two months after the volcano to halt most of the climate change damage. His father grinned at him. "This is fun, working with you."

"Yeah," Peter said. "We're gonna do this."

It really helped living in a near dictatorship where his father implemented country wide regulations and alterations.

x

Peter moved into the lab. He started building the equipment they'd need, that he would need to seal the universes back up from this side. He even let Walter help. "It's brilliant," Walter said. "You came up with it?"

"Thanks for sounding so surprised," Peter said. He didn't look up from his notes or the soldering he was doing.

"You didn't seem to apply yourself, you never apply yourself."

"Well, I was pretty psychologically messed up after being kidnapped and raised by my kidnapper and gaslighted by my kidnapper. It probably had some effect on my personality and motivation," Peter said.

Walter dithered and said, for the five millionth time, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Peter, it wasn't my intention. You were very sick."

"I know," Peter said. "You said you had an idea about the magnetic fields, let's talk about that now." He patted Walter's shoulder and brought him closer to the worktable.

Walter smiled at him and nearly hugged him. Peter would have let him. It had been nearly a year since they'd gotten Walter out of St. Claire's. He didn't hate him anymore.

Peter went to bed in his little room. It was a tiny twin bed, and his feet dangled off the end. Olivia walked in, for once in jeans and a t-shirt. She said, "You really could stay with me."

"Really?" He sat up. He'd considered it, but then he worried. His relationship with Olivia felt a little like a high wire act, he didn't want to step out too far too soon. "There's a lot to do," he said.

"Are you under a deadline?" Olivia pressed her lips together and then sat down next to him on the bed.

"That robot guy is out there. Once he sees us start to work he might try to take me back to the other side," Peter said.

"That's not a reason to rush," Olivia said.

"Or he'll do something to make me work faster," Peter said.

"You don't want to go back to the other side," Olivia said.

Peter over at the open door, into the lab. He could see the edge of his worktable, the innards of a machine to detect soft spots.

Olivia said, "Or you do."

"I'm not sure," Peter said. "So this would be a bad time to hit on you?"

"Is it hitting on me when we're already sort of dating?"

"If you're describing it as sort of dating, I do think I need to explicitly hit on you. Come share my tiny bed," Peter said, grinning.

"We're going to have to be inventive to do this on this bed," Olivia said. She stood up and took off her shoes.

"Not that inventive," Peter said. "Just come and sit right here. In the opposite order." He pushed down his underwear and it pooled around his ankles. He patted his thighs.

"That's awful," Olivia said. "I can't believe your come on is basically 'sit on this.'"

"I've been working a lot, be glad I'm not trying out quantum physics on you."

"That would have been better," Olivia said. But she took off her jeans and t-shirt.

x

After three weeks clearing one quarter of Boston, Peter's dad had to make an announcement, the rumors were too prevalent and wildly wrong. Naturally, Secretary Bishop made the announcement sounding supremely confident and lying about half about it. Peter understood, it was a complicated process and amber had been the only option.

He had dinner with his parents, and his dad was ranting about the anti-amber activists. "Oh, let's just let the tears get wider and wider, and no one will die. Except of course they will die, as they are sucked into the open hole."

Peter said, "But Dad, they're like you and Mom. Only maybe a little worse. You knew I was gone, but you eventually knew where and that I was alive. These people want their families back."

His dad looked at him, still angry and then his face softened. "You're right. You're right, Peter."

Peter's mom smiled at Peter, a kind of thank you.

x

Astrid came into Peter's room of schematics and plotting. She had called it that first, so Peter decided to keep the name. Astrid had coffee but only for herself. She just raised an eyebrow when he looked at her mug. He knew, he could get his own coffee. Astrid said, "Explain what was supposed to happen."

"I'm supposed to close all the soft spots I can find on this side. That will seal everything off. That one," Peter said, pointing at the plan on the left wall, which was already three quarters assembled out in the lab, "will detect the soft spots. Then we, uh, sew them shut, basically."

"But that's not what you're doing now," Astrid said.

"It's exactly what I'm doing now," Peter said. "But the original plan was that I also go back there, go home."

"I'd miss you," Astrid, seriously.

"Thank you," Peter said. "Not enough to bring me fresh coffee, I guess."

"You have legs," Astrid said. "You don't want to go back now."

"I don't know," Peter said. "They waited a long time to get me back working on this."

"You're going to punish them for that," Astrid said.

"No, of course not. But now there's all this. I'm Walter's legal guardian," Peter said. "I work with you and Charlie and Olivia. Someday Broyles is going to laugh at one of my jokes."

"Before you would have just gone over there," Astrid said.

"My mom's over there," Peter said.

Astrid sighed. "It's hard to say no to your mom. You really loved your mom."

"Yup," Peter said. "Both of them."

x

Peter abandoned everything else and tried to find a different solution. But he couldn't get anything organic to survive the trip to the other side. He never tried anything more than plants because he couldn't stand doing that, even to hamsters. None of it worked. He played with Bell's designs for the robot. There were two avenues Bell had worked on; simple soldiers and a more sophisticated model. Peter focused on the more sophisticated model. He could only get so far.

His dad found him in the bowels on the research lab. He said, "Peter, a new hole has formed in lower Manhatan. We took readings. It seems to open to the other side and 13 months ago. We could send you home and right back from when you disappeared, more or less."

"And then I start working on all this again," Peter said. "And you can, while I'm getting everything together, you can develop the robot or whatever so I can come home."

"I think," his father said. "I think it might take a while. Perhaps you'd like to have us wipe your memory?"

"So I go back to being a liar and con artist and I don't even remember why? Why would I want to do that, Dad?"

"It may take us a few years to get everything together to bring you back, Peter. Would you rather be oblivious to what you've lost, or live with it?" His father's fingers twitched. It reminded Peter of Walter.

"I'd rather be who I am now, Dad," Peter said.

"Of course," Walter said.

They did it the next day. His mom cried, Peter cried. Peter's dad said, "Like Nina Sharp did when bringing you here, I need to give you this injection." His eyes looked incredibly sad.

x

Olivia was naked, laying next to him. She had convinced him to get a pullout couch for his room of schematics. It was a larger bed than the tiny twin. She said, "He wiped your memory when you didn't want him to."

"Yeah," Peter said. They'd had very satisfying sex, the sort of sex Peter was unfamiliar with because he'd never gotten that familiar with a woman. Two days ago, they'd had dinner with Charlie and his wife Sonia at Olivia's apartment. Astrid came over with three pies she'd baked. "Stress baking," she'd said. Charlie had wondered if they should have invited Walter and Peter had said, "Nope."

It'd been a great time. Peter wanted nothing more than to kiss Olivia and go nowhere for at least a month.

Instead he was on a pullout couch, two days away from starting their soft spot search. "We need to find robot man," Peter said.

"Any ideas?"

"Actually, yes," Peter said. He got up out of bed and switched the light on at his desk. He had an equation and an idea. When he looked over at Olivia, she was asleep.

They identified fifteen soft spots large enough to be problematic. "They've probably sealed almost all of the other ones on the other side, the remaining soft spots here are a natural occurrence. Once we seal these up, the naturally occurring ones will probably stay about the same."

Broyles said, "Have we made any progress in finding the robot man?"

"Nope," Peter said. "But we will."

"What are you planning to do when you find him? Dunham said he shrugged off three bullets," Broyles said. He might have even looked concerned. Peter was a little touched.

"I helped the beginning stages of the design. I think I have a few ideas."

"You've been very productive lately," Broyles said. Peter looked at him, wondering at his motive.

"I remembered all the therapy I had," Peter said. "Very advanced therapy."

"I was just wondering if you were preparing to leave us," Broyles said.

"Oh," Peter said. "No, I don't think so."

"That's good," Broyles said.

Olivia went with him when they managed to track down the robot man. It was using the name Thomas Jerome Newton. "Clever, clever," it said, when it saw Peter.

"Very clever," Peter said. Olivia came up behind it with the mini cattle prod Peter had made. She attacked it and the robot twitched and went down.

Peter started cutting around the base of where a spine would be. It took him some sawing but he finally found the center piece where memory and mission would be stored. He held it up to Olivia, grinning.

"What are you going to do now?" Olivia said to him.

"I'm going to make the robot deliver a message for me, of course. It's going home."

Reiden Lake, of course, was the final spot to seal. It took nothing to open it up enough to shove the robot through first. Peter said, "Remember, that note goes straight to my mother. You have nothing to report to my father until after she has the note."

"You reprogrammed me," it said. "I'm aware you did it."

"Well, you're a really sophisticated robot. There's only so much I can do. But I made sure you will do the one thing I want and nothing my father wants," Peter said.

Peter could feel Walter's eyes on him. He ignored him. "We've made so much progress on your side," the robot said. "It's virtually like nothing happened. Almost."

"And this will be the final fix. I'm glad," Peter said.

"So it's all alright," Walter said.

Astrid shushed him. "Yes, Walter," Peter said. "Me and my dad fixed all the damage you did."

"I helped a little," Walter said.

Peter shook his head and stepped back. "Don't make me kick you into the hole," Charlie said, stepping up.

The robot looked condescending and contemptuous. "Seriously sophisticated programming," Peter murmured.

The robot stepped through and was gone. Peter and Walter turned on the machines while everyone else stepped back. "You can't go back now," Walter said over the noise.

Peter was missing some of the material he'd needed to make the machine quieter. It was a little irritating. "I know, Walter."

"I was supposed to return you. I tell you I meant to."

"You've said that, already," Peter said.

"If you're just staying for Olivia, I understand," Walter said. "She's a lovely woman."

Peter stayed silent for a few minutes. He was watching his last chance at home disappear. He pictured his mother getting his letter. He wondered if she would tell his father. Probably she would. She was gone to him all over again. He knew his eyes were wet.

"I'm not staying for Olivia," Peter said. "She's part of the reason I feel like I should stay, but she's not everything. There's you, too."

"Oh," Walter said. He was definitely crying. "That's very good to hear."

Then it was done.

"We should get a place together," Peter said, scanning the paper. He'd been staying at Olivia's for over a month. There were still Fringe cases. There was the ongoing fight to pin down Nina Sharp and William Bell's nebulous plans. There were cortexiphan kids.

There was the way Olivia moved on top of him and she was nearly always on top. He liked it, he liked her. He loved her. "We could get a place with a guest cottage or basement apartment for Walter."

"I should not only give up my apartment, I should move in with Walter?" Olivia laughed and took the paper from him.

"I'm sorry, thanks to you, we're stuck together," Peter said. "The basement apartment is probably the most affordable."

"I make more than you," Olivia said.

"I can make a ton off patents now that I'm motivated, as Walter would say," Peter said. "Imagine how much Massive Dynamic would pay me."

"You think they're evil," Olivia said. "I think they're evil."

"We'll never take them to court," Peter said. "So maybe I get a cut in as a kind of justice."

"That's not exactly justice," Olivia said.

"Not to you," Peter said. "I'm more flexible."

"A place for you and Walter to call home," Olivia said.

"Exactly," Peter said. He kissed her and she kissed him back.


End file.
